Bob’s Mill
Originally published October 20 2011
Somewhere in the Cowichan Valley, not too far from Cowichan Bay, there is a magical place. It is a place of iron, steel and wood. Of diesel fuel, kerosene and welding rod. Of leather belting, copper rivets and oily engine parts. To the uninformed the piles of steel appear to be scrap. To the uninitiated, the machinery appears to have seen better days, not worth the space it takes up amongst the weeds. There are an awful lot of weeds.
This is one of those places locked in time, where everything has a use, a purpose and a place, even if those places uses and purposes aren’t immediately evident to the visitor.
To those unschooled in the secrets of our mechanical heritage, this place looks like a disused and overgrown wrecking yard. But to those who have an inkling, to those who have the ability to see and especially to those who will allow Bob Meed, the keeper of this fantastic mechanical garden to guide them, this place is a wonderland.
Bob Meed has never been a man to sit still for long. He disliked his formal education and got out as early as he could manage. His father was a mechanically minded man and Bob learned much from watching. He learned a lot more from reading such books as interested him, books about all things mechanical and the secrets of their uses, feeding and maintenance.
52 Inch Circular Saw
Then he began to put what he’d learned into practice.
As a youngster Bob gathered up a collection of scrap parts and built himself a small motorcycle. It was a huge success, the envy of the neighborhood. As a grown man he did much the same thing again, but this time built himself a sawmill. It too was a huge success. From log deck to carriage to the 56 inch circular blade, all powered by a diesel engine salvaged from a 1940′s navy vessel, Bob put the whole thing together and ran it a while. Then he moved it 400 meters across the property, because he felt that the new spot would be a better location.
Although the mill doesn’t run every day, it still produces good quality lumber; boards posts and beams, and with every board-foot completed comes a little sweat, a sip of tea and a large measure of personal satisfaction. The various belts, pulleys, sprockets, cables and chains have been working together since 1964. The mill operates with a confident, heavy smoothness that’s simply not found in modern hydraulically operated equipment. It doesn’t just operate; All the bits and pieces come together and when Bob asks them to, they co-operate.
The Kenworth. It’s been here a while.
Bob is always busy. Even today, where he’s reached that time of life where many men would be content to retire and relax, his mind still moves from one project to another. Besides being a sawyer, he is a welder, a millwright, a mechanic. He takes things that other people have discarded and manages to breathe life into them again.
He rebuilt two English Ford Major diesel farm tractors from bits and pieces collected here and there. One has the engine it came with, the other a marine diesel salvaged from a cabin cruiser. One has a set of forks and is used to lift cut boards down from the mill deck, the other has a pallet jack behind and is handy for moving things around the shop and farm. When he asks them do another day’s work they comply most of the time. He allows them to perform once more to the best of their ability. He takes age into account and doesn’t ask more than is fair. He talks to them and they reply, with whisps of smoke and confident grumbles from their exhaust stacks.
Sleeping Quietly
Bob doesn’t like to throw things out. That bolt, spring, 1970′s panel van or lightly moss covered 1970′s Kenworth Cab-Over he doesn’t need at the moment may well come in useful in the future. Bob has machines for which they don’t make parts any longer. The rusty moss bedecked lifting crane he uses to hoist logs up to the sawmill deck still works pretty well. If it ever stops working, Bob has a spare crane on the property ready to give donor parts.
Bob stores on the grounds of his property and in the barn he and his brother built a few years ago, all manner of mechanical things. These are the bits and pieces he has collected during a lifetime of work. Remember that little motorcycle I mentioned earlier? It’s still on the property.
Bob has engines, compressors, transmissions, axles and wheels. He has a whole window sill full of hydraulic jacks. There are filing cabinets full of manuals and books. There are countless glass jars filled with every conceivable nut and bolt you could possibly imagine wanting or needing. The stairs to the office floor are lined with alternators. Upstairs he has two complete marine diesel engines; Mercedes. He has three Detroit diesels too. Outside he has several International Harvester engines both sixes and V-8s. He owns one vintage engine from the early 1900′s which was restored to power a large bar b que spit grill for use at the fall fair. He owns a vintage Rumley which runs on kerosene and which used to run the entire saw mill, before Bob found the Fairbanks Morse that runs it today. The newer engine makes a little more power.
The loader everyone thinks won’t run
And he has tools. Bob has a lot of tools. A lathe capable of machining the brake drum of a 1950′s logging truck. A milling machine that could have come from a railway engine shop. He has an air compressor, again made with cast off parts, the 10 horsepower electric motor from one place and the double acting compressor from another, bolted to a frame Bob made himself. It ticks over like an oiled watch, so massively overbuilt for the job it does that given a modicum of care, it should keep running for the next 50 years or so. There is also a board planer run by a vintage Lister diesel engine, which shaves the rough edges off the lumber the mill produces. It’s about as old as the Rumley but it works perfectly.
That’s the thing that strikes you, when you visit Bob Meed’s Garden. Everything that needs to work does so. That which does not, rests for the time being, waiting to be called on again or waiting to give up some part or piece in order to make something else whole and useful again.
There is harmony in Bob Meed’s mechanical garden, sincerity, self reliance and wisdom too.
Yet even more, there is beauty.
